riders of the purple sage-第47部分

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　general　in　retreat　calculating　his　chances　and　the　power　and　speed　of　pursuers；　and　the　moment　for　the　last　desperate　burst。　No　doubt；　Card；　with　his　life　at　stake；　gloried　in　that　race；　perhaps　more　wildly　than　Venters。　For　he　had　been　born　to　the　sage　and　the　saddle　and　the　wild。　He　was　more　than　half　horse。　Not　until　the　last　callthe　sudden　up…flashing　instinct　of　self…preservationwould　he　lose　his　skill　and　judgment　and　nerve　and　the　spirit　of　that　race。　Venters　seemed　to　read　Jerry's　mind。　That　little　crime…stained　rider　was　actually　thinking　of　his　horses；　husbanding　their　speed；　handling　them　with　knowledge　of　years；　glorying　in　their　beautiful；　swift；　racing　stride；　and　wanting　them　to　win　the　race　when　his　own　life　hung　suspended　in　quivering　balance。　Again　Jerry　whirled　in　his　saddle　and　the　sun　flashed　red　on　his　face。　Turning；　he　drew　Black　Star　closer　and　closer　toward　Night；　till　they　ran　side　by　side；　as　one　horse。　Then　Card　raised　himself　in　the　saddle；　slipped　out　of　the　stirrups；　and；　somehow　twisting　himself；　leaped　upon　Black　Star。　He　did　not　even　lose　the　swing　of　the　horse。　Like　a　leech　he　was　there　in　the　other　saddle；　and　as　the　horses　separated；　his　right　foot；　that　had　been　apparently　doubled　under　him；　shot　down　to　catch　the　stirrup。　The　grace　and　dexterity　and　daring　of　that　rider's　act　won　something　more　than　admiration　from　Venters。　For　the　distance　of　a　mile　Jerry　rode　Black　Star　and　then　changed　back　to　Night。　But　all　Jerry's　skill　and　the　running　of　the　blacks　could　avail　little　more　against　the　sorrel。

Venters　peered　far　ahead；　studying　the　lay　of　the　land。　Straightaway　for　five　miles　the　trail　stretched；　and　then　it　disappeared　in　hummocky　ground。　To　the　right；　some　few　rods；　Venters　saw　a　break　in　the　sage；　and　this　was　the　rim　of　Deception　Pass。　Across　the　dark　cleft　gleamed　the　red　of　the　opposite　wall。　Venters　imagined　that　the　trail　went　down　into　the　Pass　somewhere　north　of　those　ridges。　And　he　realized　that　he　must　and　would　overtake　Jerry　Card　in　this　straight　course　of　five　miles。

Cruelly　he　struck　his　spurs　into　Wrangle's　flanks。　A　light　touch　of　spur　was　sufficient　to　make　Wrangle　plunge。　And　now；　with　a　ringing；　wild　snort；　he　seemed　to　double　up　in　muscular　convulsions　and　to　shoot　forward　with　an　impetus　that　almost　unseated　Venters。　The　sage　blurred　by；　the　trail　flashed　by；　and　the　wind　robbed　him　of　breath　and　hearing。　Jerry　Card　turned　once　more。　And　the　way　he　shifted　to　Black　Star　showed　he　had　to　make　his　last　desperate　running。　Venters　aimed　to　the　side　of　the　trail　and　sent　a　bullet　puffing　the　dust　beyond　Jerry。　Venters　hoped　to　frighten　the　rider　and　get　him　to　take　to　the　sage。　But　Jerry　returned　the　shot；　and　his　ball　struck　dangerously　close　in　the　dust　at　Wrangle's　flying　feet。　Venters　held　his　fire　then；　while　the　rider　emptied　his　revolver。　For　a　mile；　with　Black　Star　leaving　Night　behind　and　doing　his　utmost；　Wrangle　did　not　gain；　for　another　mile　he　gained　little；　if　at　all。　In　the　third　he　caught　up　with　the　now　galloping　Night　and　began　to　gain　rapidly　on　the　other　black。

Only　a　hundred　yards　now　stretched　between　Black　Star　and　Wrangle。　The　giant　sorrel　thundered　onand　onand　on。　In　every　yard　he　gained　a　foot。　He　was　whistling　through　his　nostrils；　wringing　wet；　flying　lather；　and　as　hot　as　fire。　Savage　as　ever；　strong　as　ever；　fast　as　ever；　but　each　tremendous　stride　jarred　Venters　out　of　the　saddle！　Wrangle's　power　and　spirit　and　momentum　had　begun　to　run　him　off　his　legs。　Wrangle's　great　race　was　nearly　wonand　run。　Venters　seemed　to　see　the　expanse　before　him　as　a　vast；　sheeted；　purple　plain　sliding　under　him。　Black　Star　moved　in　it　as　a　blur。　The　rider；　Jerry　Card；　appeared　a　mere　dot　bobbing　dimly。　Wrangle　thundered　ononon！　Venters　felt　the　increase　in　quivering；　straining　shock　after　every　leap。　Flecks　of　foam　flew　into　Venters's　eyes；　burning　him；　making　him　see　all　the　sage　as　red。　But　in　that　red　haze　he　saw；　or　seemed　to　see；　Black　Star　suddenly　riderless　and　with　broken　gait。　Wrangle　thundered　on　to　change　his　pace　with　a　violent　break。　Then　Venters　pulled　him　hard。　From　run　to　gallop；　gallop　to　canter；　canter　to　trot；　trot　to　walk；　and　walk　to　stop；　the　great　sorrel　ended　his　race。

Venters　looked　back。　Black　Star　stood　riderless　in　the　trail。　Jerry　Card　had　taken　to　the　sage。　Far　up　the　white　trail　Night　came　trotting　faithfully　down。　Venters　leaped　off；　still　half　blind；　reeling　dizzily。　In　a　moment　he　had　recovered　sufficiently　to　have　a　care　for　Wrangle。　Rapidly　he　took　off　the　saddle　and　bridle。　The　sorrel　was　reeking；　heaving；　whistling；　shaking。　But　he　had　still　the　strength　to　stand；　and　for　him　Venters　had　no　fears。

As　Venters　ran　back　to　Black　Star　he　saw　the　horse　stagger　on　shaking　legs　into　the　sage　and　go　down　in　a　heap。　Upon　reaching　him　Venters　removed　the　saddle　and　bridle。　Black　Star　had　been　killed　on　his　legs；　Venters　thought。　He　had　no　hope　for　the　stricken　horse。　Black　Star　lay　flat；　covered　with　bloody　froth；　mouth　wide；　tongue　hanging；　eyes　glaring；　and　all　his　beautiful　body　in　convulsions。

Unable　to　stay　there　to　see　Jane's　favorite　racer　die；　Venters　hurried　up　the　trail　to　meet　the　other　black。　On　the　way　he　kept　a　sharp　lookout　for　Jerry　Card。　Venters　imagined　the　rider　would　keep　well　out　of　range　of　the　rifle；　but；　as　he　would　be　lost　on　the　sage　without　a　horse；　not　improbably　he　would　linger　in　the　vicinity　on　the　chance　of　getting　back　one　of　the　blacks。　Night　soon　came　trotting　up；　hot　and　wet　and　run　out。　Venters　led　him　down　near　the　others；　and　unsaddling　him；　let　him　loose　to　rest。　Night　wearily　lay　down　in　the　dust　and　rolled；　proving　himself　not　yet　spent。

Then　Venters　sat　down　to　rest　and　think。　Whatever　the　risk；　he　was　compelled　to　stay　where　he　was；　or　comparatively　near；　for　the　night。　The　horses　must　rest　and　drink。　He　must　find　water。　He　was　now　seventy　miles　from　Cottonwoods；　and；　he　believed；　close　to　the　canyon　where　the　cattle　trail　must　surely　turn　off　and　go　down　into　the　Pass。　After　a　while　he　rose　to　survey　the　valley。

He　was　very　near　to　the　ragged　edge　of　a　deep　canyon　into　which　the　trail　turned。　The　ground　lay　in　uneven　ridges　divided　by　washes；　and　these　sloped　into　the　canyon。　Following　the　canyon　line；　he　saw　where　its　rim　was　broken　by　other　intersecting　canyons；　and　farther　down　red　walls　and　yellow　cliffs　leading　toward　a　deep　blue　cleft　that　he　made　sure　was　Deception　Pass。　Walking　out　a　few　rods　to　a　promontory；　he　found　where　the　trail　went　down。　The　descent　was　gradual；　along　a　stone…walled　trail；　and　Venters　felt　sure　that　this　was　the　place　where　Oldring　drove　cattle　into　the　Pass。　There　was；　however；　no　indication　at　all　that　he　ever　had　driven　cattle　out　at　this　point。　Oldring　had　many　holes　to　his　burrow。

In　searching　round　in　the　little　hollows　Venters；　much　to　his　relief；　found　water。　He　composed　himself　to　rest　and　eat　some　bread　and　meat；　while　he　waited　for　a　sufficient　time　to　elapse　so　that　he　could　safely　give　the　horses　a　drink。　He　judged　the　hour　to　be　somewhere　around　noon。　Wrangle　lay　down　to　rest　and　Night　followed　suit。　So　long　as　they　were　down　Venters　intended　to　make　no　move。　The　longer　they　rested　the　better；　and　the　safer　it　would　be　to　give　them　water。　By　and　by　he　forced　himself　to　go　over　to　where　Black　Star　lay；　expecting　to　find　him　dead。　Instead　he　found　the　racer　partially　if　not　wholly　recovered。　There　was　recognition；　even　fire；　in　his　big　black　eyes。　Venters　was　overjoyed。　He　sat　by　the　black　for　a　long　time。　Black　Star　presently　labored　to　his　feet　with　a　heave　and　a　groan；　shook　himself；　and　snorted　for　water。　Venters　repaired　to　the　little　pool　he　had　found；　filled　his　sombrero；　and　gave　the　racer　a　drink。　Black　Star　gulped　it　at　one　draught；　as　if　it　were　but　a　drop；　and　pushed　his　nose　into　the　hat　and　snorted　for　more。　Venters　now　led　Night　down　to　drink；　and　after　a　further　time　Black　Star　also。　Then　the　blacks　began　to　graze。

The　sorrel　had　wandered　off　down　the　sage　between　the　trail　and　the　canyon。　Once　or　twice　he　disappeared　in　little　swales。　Finally　Venters　concluded　Wrangle　had　grazed　far　enough；　and；　taking　his　lasso；　he　went　to　fetch　him　back。　In　crossing　from　one　ridge　to　another　he　saw　where　the　horse　had　made　muddy　a　pool　of　water。　It　occurred　to　Venters　then　that　Wrangle　had　drunk　his　fill；　and　did　not　seem　the　worse　for　it；　and　might　be　anything　but　easy　to　catch。　And；　true　enough；　he　could　not　come　within　roping　reach　of　the　sorrel。　He　tried　for　an　hour；　and　gave　up　in　disgust。　Wrangle　did　not　seem　so　wild　as　simply　perverse。　In　a　quandary　Venters　returned　to　the　other　horses；　hoping　much；　yet　doubting　more；　that　when　Wrangle　had　grazed　to　suit　himself　he　might　be　caught。

As　the　afternoon　wore　away　Venters's　concern　diminished；　yet　he　kept　close　watch　on　the　blacks　and　the　trail　and　the　sage。　There　was　no　telling　of　what　Jerry　Card　might　be　capable。　Venters　sullenly　acquiesced　to　the　idea　that　the　rider　had　been　too　quick　and　too　shrewd　for　him。　Strangely　and　doggedly；　however；　Venters　clung　to　his　foreboding　of　Card's　downfall。

The　wind　died　away；　the　red　sun　topped　the　far　distant　western　rise　of　slope；　and　the　long；　creeping　purple　shadows　lengthened。　The　rims　of　the　canyons　gleamed　crimson　and